Won't Look At You
by beverytender
Summary: They're in college, and alcohol is Bad. AN: I lied, it's going to be more than three parts.
1. Know That We Are Young

**Author's Note: In case you haven't noticed, nearly every fic I've got was unplanned. I'd start out with one thing and end up somewhere completely different and I have no clue as to how I got there. I don't know yet how this will end, or if there will be twists, or anything. It just works for me to simply put pen to paper and see what I get. This time, I got this. I like it, I've always loved fics written from the 'you' pov, but I've never tried it before. I just hope you can figure out who's the 'you' in either section. Let me know if I've failed completely, or only partially! :)**

It's the first time he drinks, the first time he gets drunk, you can't blame him. You've done this before, and you know what could happen, it's not as if you make good decisions when you're sober. It doesn't matter, it's just one of the things, and you're all set to pretend it never happened just like anything else, it's not the first time you're picking your clothes up off the floor in the morning.

Although it is the first time you're not doing it alone (don't ask) and it is the first time you're sore. Odd surprise, that, but whatever.

The bad surprise? That apparently it's weird you're leaving. Like, what, you're supposed to stay and cuddle? Since when have you seemed like that type? You ask him this, and he's got no answer, except a disappointed look. Shit, there it is, he thought this meant something.

Awkward.

()

It's the first time you drink, the first time you get drunk, the blame isn't yours. At least, you don't think it is, this has her signature all over it. It wasn't even your idea to get drunk. (Really, when you think about it, it amazes you how many things aren't your idea.) You probably should have expected this, though, planned for it (that's what you do), she never said she made good decisions, and history repeats itself.

But you've seen her passed out on Carly's couch, and you've seen her fall asleep in a RV with everyone being loud and a hot dog in her mouth, so it's a surprise when she's awake before you and looks like she's about to do the walk of shame. (Yes, you know what that means, you're not completely ignorant about what normal college students do. You've just never done it - before, now, you guess, you have - and you didn't think about her doing it, but of course she does.)

Dammit, you do not mean to ask where she's going. Probably you don't want to know, and no, of course you didn't expect her to stay and cuddle, you're not stupid, you're just curious. What the hell is she talking about, you look disappointed? You probably collected enough scars last night, and you didn't ask for this. (You don't want this.)

Did you? (Do you?)


	2. Don't Call My Name

**Sort of femmeslash in this chapter, not by my standards but maybe by yours, so be warned. And a little Carly, but I'm having trouble injecting her into stories without her being a Plot Device, so. This is an experiment anyways, so I'll try it here. Cussing, too, because you know Sam would in the real world, and what else... The wrist thing! I read that in a kinkmeme piece, or possibly just a piece of smut once, and it stuck in my head like crazy. So. If you're ever written that, consider this a tribute to You, in all your awesome. Bye.**

Turns out, you started a vicious cycle. You smirk when you call it that, you're the vicious, he's the cycle. You make a crack about that chip in his head degrading into a bad-influence seeking missile the first time he seems to seek you out at a party, but it works out fine - he's convincing when he says 'don't apologize, just sleep with me' which you happen to like better anyways, except for the wondering when he grew enough of a pair to say anything like that before you remember - liquid courage. Well, if anyone needs it, it's the nub. Even if he did say 'Okay, fine, but I'm only drinking this once, Sam.' You smirk at that, too, or maybe at his mouth on the inside of your wrist, you're not sure. The world's gone blurry.

You write that off. Twice? You've done a lot weirder things with a lot weirder people twice and then never again.

But then he messes up that thought too, it's almost like he's trying to ruin your excuses, hasn't he learned not to do that? God. At the third party, you very determinedly Do Not sleep with him. (that thing in the upstairs bathroom doesn't count, you were ambushed and it wasn't even really sex anyways. Technically.)

Party four you bring a date - a girl, because the guys at this school are definitely boring, and the two of you together are a total crowd parting influence like fucking Moses, and it gives you so many more mocking opportunities with him.

Not to mention she's well aware the difference between a screw and a relationship. Unlike some people.

()

A girl. She brought a girl. And just when you thought you were getting somewhere, that time before the last, she'd even let you go slowly instead of rushed. You don't know how to compete with a girl, you don't think you can. Even if you could manage to close your mouth and get staring. You exit this party early, going home to a cold shower with a bad taste in your mouth. You amuse yourself slightly, grimly, following the train of thought of that old woman who swallowed a fly, maybe that's all you did, maybe you'll die.

You don't die, after all, but you got the message as thoroughly as possible, and you don't go to the next two parties. You can't tell Carly when she arrives all in a flurry of excitement, begging you to be some sort of chaperone - ha, clearly you've proven you're irresponsible - and your study excuse falls fifteen stories out a window flat.

Maybe with her there, you won't make a fool of yourself. Maybe.


	3. I'm Afraid I May Have Faked It

You can't resist, even with Carly beside you, a couple hours in and you're seeking her out, and this time you're more drunk than she is. She wrinkles her nose at you, "Jesus, did you drink whiskey or take a bath in it?"

You've got that niggling feeling in the very back of your head that tomorrow you'll wonder what the hell you were thinking, but right now you reach for her sleeve and mutter, "Sam, come on."

"You imust/i be kidding me." She shakes her head, and when you don't reply she drags you outside through the back door, "Goddammit, Benson, why the hell couldn't you let this be a one night stand?"

For some reason, her statement - even though you expected it back when you were sober - is making you angry now, and you reply intelligently with - "'Cuz, I didn't wanna."

She sighs, "Why am I even talking to you, you're smashed," and turns to go back inside, but you pull her back.

"Am not. Say what you want to."

After spending a minute staring at where you've got hold of her, and then making you let go in a relatively painless way, she looks up and answers you. "Fine. You're an idiot, and you don't actually know what you want. College has screwed with your head and you've stopped thinking about that stupid-but-oh-so-important master plan of yours and sex fried your virgin brain so now you think you're in love with me or something, which is the stupidest part. You're going to quit going to a party every week and you're going to quit trying to get me to sleep with you and in a week or two I'll be saying "I told you so." I don't get what's up with you and Carls trying to act like me all of a sudden, leave this to the pros."

()

You are so sick of him breaking the rules. Sure, the majority of rules are shit, but you happen to be attached to those big black lines that dictate your life. You do the goofing off, the screwing around. You break the law and break bones and occasionally if you're bored break hearts for kicks. You go to parties and get drunk or high instead of doing homework. Freddie and Carly don't do all those things. They're supposed to stay home and do the schoolwork and follow the rules and lead nice, non-pain-inducing lives except for when you drag them out to something like this. You and Freddie hate each other and he constantly wants something he can't have.

But iyou/i are not supposed to be that something. That's something that's not supposed to change, you and the nub are no good for each other and it'll end up in a huge bloody explosion and wreck everything. You're absolutely certain of this and you're fine with being anything but a couple with him, enemies who fuck sometimes was great with you, if he could've just let it be that.

You growl a little, under your breath, and steady him when he nearly falls up the stairs leading back into the house, and then it's easier just to drag the drunken lug over to Carly.

She can definitely tell you are Not Happy, and she doesn't argue - at least she's smart enough to obey the lines, thank god - when you inform her that you're all leaving 'cuz he's smashed and you're not leaving her here alone.

Tomorrow, you can dodge her questions and his calls easy.


	4. Lay Where You're Laying

You can't dodge her banging on your door as well as the phone ringing. You failed to consider this last night, she was sober so she's not hungover like you are, but at least, you think as you let her in, it's not him here.

She strides in with what you call her 'Go to your room' face on, and you inwardly grimace. She's got her arms crossed and everything, and you know you're being interrogated even as she opens with a seemingly pleasant,

"Good morning, Sam."

"Carls, I've got a headache, can we just cut to the chase? What'd the nub tell you?"

She lets her arms flop to her sides, relaxing a good bit, "Nothing! But he's been weird and I know you have something to do with it."

"What makes you think that?"

"How about the fact that you asked me what he told me?"

Damn. You did. And here you thought you were pretty good at not self-incriminating. "Trust me, don't worry about it. 48 hours and he'll be back to normal."

"That doesn't answer my question!"

"You didn't ask a question, cupcake."

She makes a face at you and you grin a little. "It was iimplied/i, Sam."

()

You feel like your head's been split open when you wake up, later than usual but way too early, and you instantly regret it when you groan because it's inhumanly loud and you think your tongue's gotten stuck to the roof of your mouth.

And all this before you even start to wonder (and subsequently realize) what the hell happened last night. It's bits and pieces, ending with a recollection of puking on Carly. You'll have to apologize for that as soon as you feel up to standing up.

You're suddenly very glad you didn't take a weekend class, because you can't see yourself going anywhere today.

By the time the sun goes down, you've managed to recall a few other things - what exactly you drank, conversations with a couple people you don't know all that well, but you're still feeling like you made a massive fool of yourself and you can't remember how or to who.


	5. Chapter 5

So since fanfic net is doing this removal of stories that describe a 'physical reaction of a violent or sexual nature' (read: all my stories) I'm not going to be posting here any more. All of my stuff is also on AO3, username beverytender, and it might be on dreamwidth soon. Anyways. The best thing about ffnet is the alert system, so if anyone wants to be alerted when I post a chapter or new fic or whatever, send me a message (here or on tumblr (hard-to-translate) or AO3) and let me know which story or fandom or ship you want alerts for, and your email or tumblr or some such, and I will shoot you a message when I post something that you want to know about. 


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